


Mountain Blues

by HimawariPin



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Affectionate friendships, Aged up characters, Akechi has too many striped ties, Akira flirts with danger, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drabble turned multi-chapter fic thanks to TheHolyLight, M/M, Makoto tries her best, Morgana is a noisy cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HimawariPin/pseuds/HimawariPin
Summary: Akechi falls in love with a cup of coffee, and maybe the cute barista too.





	1. Chapter 1

Tapping his feet impatiently, Goro Akechi once again checked his ridiculously expensive designer watch. Seven thirty. His blind date was half an hour late. Not that he cared beyond wanting to get this over with so he could tell his sister that her friend was charming, but not his type. Like every other time she’d tried to hook him up with another one of her friends.

Frankly, he was only doing this to get Makoto off his back about finding that ‘special someone’. He had already found that special someone at the age of seventeen and her name was justice.

Besides, if Goro could go on a last minute call about the Phantom Thieves sending another calling card and still be on time for their appointment, his date could show the same courtesy.

With a resigned sigh, Goro turned to observe his own reflection in the window. Heavy drops of rain pelted down against the other side of the glass, exchentuanting how he felt right now. To be blunt- he looked tired. No pristinely ironed shirt, designer tie or carefully groomed hair could cover up that fact. With the Phantom Thieves doing new heists twice a week now, he was allowed very little sleep. Work was constant, and like today, the thieves usually managed to escape police custody.

And of course their leader, Joker, seemed to have it in for Akechi in particular. Taking any opportunity to humiliate him during their encounters. Playing tricks on him in front of his colleagues, one time disguised as one of Goro’s own officers, planted a chaste kiss on cheek and complimented his cologne before running off with the treasure right in front of the detective’s stunned face. His personal least favorite was how he personally addressed Goro with each calling card. Because of this, they’d mistaken the flowers accompanying the cards as messages to him, thankfully this was not the case. The personalized messages were bad enough.

He was the butt of many jokes in the office because of this behaviour. Face burning hot as he overheard interns giggle about it as he was pouring himself a cup of coffee in the break room.

Even though he was the chief of the Phantom Thief task force and technically their boss, his subordinates took every opportunity to make light of that infuriating behaviour. Usually behind his back, but within hearing range.

Speaking of flowers. Back in the café, Goro touched his chin as he mused upon this part of the calling cards. They knew from early on that it was meant as flower language, though it usually made little sense or difference to the detectives. An orange lily (Sayuri) for Madarame had fit exceptionally well considering the painting they ended up stealing had the same name. 

However, targets like Kaneshiro and Okumura both received a white Chrysanthemums, signifying truth. Which he assumed was chosen because the thefts by the Phantom Thieves uncovered Kaneshiro’s extortion of young students and Okumura’s inhumane treatment of his workers.

Goro sighed, turning away from the window and allowed himself to sink together onto the table surface. Resting his chin on top of folded arms. A pathetic public display he would probably see in tomorrow’s paper, but right now he didn’t care.

After those cases, the public hailed the thieves as heroes and that in itself was a migraine.  
He went from SIU golden boy to public enemy number one overnight.

Checking his watch again; seven fifty-five.

And now he was getting stood up by a date he didn’t want to meet anyway. Damn Makoto for wasting his time with this triviality.

Snapping him out of his own misery was the sound of porcelain gently clinking against the cherry wood surface of his table. Looking up, he was greeted with a blank expression and a fresh cup of coffee.

“On the house. You seem to need it.”, his voice was monotone, without any feeling leaning towards either way of the spectrum. No feigned sympathy, just stating a fact. You look tired. Drink this.

Goro took the opportunity to properly take in the details of the barista he’d barely nodded a quick greeting to when he entered the establishment.

Curly unkempt hair, bad posture and neutral grey eyes framed by unfashionably large glasses. Squinting, he could tell they were for cosmetics only, they didn’t seem to have any strength. Being someone who actually needed glasses, Goro couldn’t understand why anyone would subject themselves to the annoyance of wearing them unless they needed to see what they were doing.

Rising back to a normal sitting position, Goro turned on the plastic charm and emitted a disarming chuckle. “Do I look that bad?”

The barista shrugged in response.

Ouch. That was meant as a rhetorical question.

“Well, stress is bad for the skin, you know. And I’ve had plenty of that lately.” Goro opted to rest his head in his palm, shifting his attention to the steaming cup in front of him.

“It smells good. Which beans did you use?” he asked in attempt to divert attention away from himself, not expecting a real answer. He had long stopped expecting Baristas to know more than how to press a button or use finished factory imported blends. Maybe he wanted to seem more knowledgeable about coffee than the barista himself. Maybe he was being petty. Who knows.

“Just Jamaican Blue Mountain, medium dark roast.” he answered simply with another shrug.

As far as Goro knew. Blue Mountain beans were some of the most expensive on the market. Why waste good beans like that on customer he didn’t know? Who had also been loitering in his café for an hour with only an espresso to his bill, he might add.

Without betraying his surprise, the detective gently picked up the intricately designed porcelain cup and brought it close to his lips. Before drinking it, he savoured the rich smell.

The barista seemed to regard him with mild interest as the detective finally took a deep sip of dark liquid.

His day seem to fractionally brighten at this small gesture from a complete stranger.

Because this coffee was delicious.

Perhaps even the best he’d had.

The complex flavour profile of the Blue Mountain came through perfectly, starting out mild and smooth then bloomed into a rich bitter aftertaste as he let the liquid rest on his tongue before swallowing.

He could imagine himself nursing this cup on a calm rainy day, taking breaks between each sip to savour the full spectrum of flavour only an expertly brewed cup of coffee could provide.

He might have found his new go-to café.

“Delicious.” he smiled into his cup, eyes closed in pure bliss.

When he received no answer, Goro looked up to find the barista’s cheeks had turned a shade pinker, his expression indicating he was trying to stifle a smile but he was failing terribly. He was practically beaming.

The barista moved to nervously scratch his neck, eyes focusing on anything but the man in front of him.

“Thank you.” it was barely above a mumble, but audible enough for Goro to hear it.

The detective felt his own face grow hotter in response, it suddenly became harder to breathe.

Cute.

The offending word echoed through Goro’s mind until the sound of his work phone snapped him out of whatever trance the barista had put him in. He abruptly rose from his seat to take the phone out of his back pocket.

“Akechi.” the man in question barked into his phone, business mode activated. He attentively nodded along as the person on the other line spoke. The barista seemed to take this as his cue to give Goro some privacy and had gone back behind the counter.

“I understand. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” the phone call ended with a single tap to his screen and he was now in the conflicting position of leaving a perfect cup of coffee behind. Giving the cup one last longing look, he opted to instead address the curly haired man.

“Thank you for the coffee.”, fishing his wallet out of the other back pocket, he retrieved a thousand yen bill, laid it on the table and grabbed his jacket off the other seat in quick succession.

As he was about to storm out the café, he halted at the disappointed expression of the the other man. Goro hesitated for a second before making up his mind.

“I don’t think I got your name?” he asked, cursing the nervous tone of his question

The barista leaned onto the counter before answering. “Akira Kurusu.”

“Kurusu-san.” Goro allowed himself a genuine smile. “You’ve gained a loyal customer. I’ll be back to sample more of your delicious coffee.” he winked before finally exiting the café, missing the blush he’d elicited from Akira.

“I look forward to it, detective.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Akira, you thirsty idiot!” the man in question dodged the bunny shaped pillow aimed at his head with practised ease. “You said you wouldn’t approach him!”, the red headed gremlin Akira called his sister was currently fuming over the events that had transpired a few hours prior. 

“Futaba- he looked sad.” he said in attempt to defend his actions.

“Oh and you fixed that, congrats! But because of that, he’s coming back to Leblanc-” she threw another pillow, this one connected and knocked Akira’s glasses askew. ”to arrest your stupid ass-” She pointed accusingly her at brother. “You think he won’t recognize you? I’m like 90% sure he has a picture of Joker framed over his bed, because that man doesn’t have a life outside of work! I checked!”

To be fair, Akira had a picture of Akechi in his wallet, so it’s not like he was any better.

“Why are you so angry?” Akira groaned in frustration, pushing his glasses back in place.

“Because I don’t want you to go to jail, you dork!” she screeched.

“I’m not going to talk to him outside of what’s necessary to do my job, alright?” he tried to placate her.

Whatever Futaba was about to say next was interrupted by a knock on Akira’s apartment door. They both kept quiet for a few seconds until a muffled voice clarified who it was.

“We brought snacks.” Ryuji sing-songed through the door. “And cat food for Morgana.” he continued after a beat.

At his name, the cat in question emitted a curious “Mrow?” from where he was lying on Akira’s couch. The cat took a moment to stretch before he joined his owner at the door, eagerly pawing at the bottom of Akira’s jeans which he usually did when he thought he would be getting a treat.

“It’ll be ok. And don’t tell them he said he’d be back.” Akira whispered. Futaba frowned but didn’t argue anymore.

The door swung open and a civilian clad group of thieves all greeted their leader at the same time.

“Good work today, everyone.” the leader smiled.

Ann was the first to enter the apartment, giving Akira an affectionate hug.

“Good work! Oh, and we heard from Futaba that you had a run-in with Akechi today.” she laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder before moving on to hug the redhead. Yusuke greeted him with a nod, as did Haru, “Good evening.” she added while looking at the excited cat aimlessly walking between all the guests, meowing for treats. Ryuji was already at the table, sorting out the snacks and drinks in separate piles.

“About that.” Makoto was the last to enter the apartment, giving Akira a stern look accompanied by crossed arms. Akira tried to stall the conversation by slowly closing the door behind her.

“First off- I didn’t know they would be meeting at Leblanc, and for that I am sorry.” she counted one on her finger, then continued to count another. “Second- I know you like my brother but I thought you were better than to interrupt someone’s date. We've been through this.” she scolded.

Akira looked at her in confusion. “Date?”

He didn’t know what kind of possessive jerk Makoto was mistaking him for, but if Akechi had a date at Leblanc the only interruption he would be doing would be to ask for their order.

“Yes? I set my brother up on a blind date with a friend of mine- She was the one who chose the location, by the way. I didn’t know until Futaba told me you’d met him tonight.” she nervously twined her fingers together before continuing. “I wouldn't approve of you dating my brother, but it’s not like I would be cruel enough to rub it in your face.” she sighed, “I’m sorry.”

The barista blinked a few times before speaking, “He was alone at Leblanc for an hour before I gave him a cup of coffee because he looked bummed out. Then he got a phone-call and had to leave.” he offered.  
Now it was Makoto’s turn to blink in confusion. “Alone?”

From the table, Ryuji snorted. “Serves him right.” Ann and Yusuke simultaneously elbowed him in the side from their respective directions. “Oof!”

“B-but, he told me the date went well.” she stuttered.

“Unless the date was with his own reflection, he got stood up.” Akira quipped.

Makoto looked crestfallen. “He lied to me?”

The young police commissioner seemed too out of it to properly digest that it was even a possibility. Akira took pity on her and guided her to sit down on the couch. Futaba pet her shoulder. “There, there.”

“I just wanted to help.” she groaned. “He’s been so stressed lately, I thought that maybe if he started dating someone, he would be able to focus on something other than work.”

“I can help with that.” Akira raised his hand with a playful smirk.

“You _are_ work, Akira.” Futaba pointed out. The barista feigned surprise and sadness at the news. Truth be told, he did genuinely like Akechi. And that’s why he could acknowledge that pursuing a relationship with him was out of the question, considering it could possibly jeopardize the detective’s life. (his career)

“Maybe I should stop setting him up on blind dates?” Makoto pondered out loud, despite not being related to her brother by blood, they looked remarkably similar when deep in thought.

Ann stopped mid-chew and looked at the other woman, “Wait, how many blind dates have you arranged for him?”

Makoto stopped to count on her fingers, everyone in the group aside from the commissioner was digging into their snack pile as they waited for the answer. Haru was feeding Morgana his treats, giggling whenever the cat meowed impatiently for more.

“Five. There was a sixth, but I accidently put it on the same day as one of our heists and he had to come in for work.” she murmured, “This was supposed to be the seventh, but I guess it didn’t work out as I had hoped. She didn’t tell me anything either…”

There was a brief pause of chewing noises around the table, Morgana meowed for snacks.

“What’s the sister equivalent of helicopter parent? Helicopter sibling?” Futaba mused to herself while popping another piece of chocolate into her mouth. Next to her, Ann’s eyes widened in horror before they quickly shifted to see the commissioner processing what had just been said.

When it hit, Makoto made a sound as if she’d been mercilessly punched in the stomach.

“Futaba-chan.” Ann scolded. The hacker shrugged, still chewing on her chocolate.

Haru looked up from the purring cat to give her two cents on the matter. “Mako-chan, I think it’s wonderful that you care so much about your brother, but as someone who has had a some experience with arrangements, I suggest you let him figure things out on his own.” she smiled kindly.

Makoto crumbled further in on herself and looked like her life energy was leaking out of her body.

“I get it…” she croaked, shaking hand reaching for her bottle of green tea. “I’ll stop.”

“You could always hook me up with one of your attractive friends.” Ryuji winked. Makoto seemed unimpressed by the suggestion, taking an extra long sip to avoid having to answer.

Yusuke, who had been relatively quiet up until now leaned forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, “Now that we’ve completed all our planned heists, what shall we do in the future?” all eyes went to Akira.

He employed the same tactic as Makoto had just used on Ryuji, and took a slow sip of his beer as he deliberated his response.

“There’s no need to rush. We’ll find a new target eventually.” he finally spoke. “Until then, let’s take a break.”

“A wise choice.” Yusuke nodded sagely. “I’ve lacked time to properly invest in my artwork lately. A period of rest sounds appropriate after all the work we’ve put in the past month.”

Haru seemed a bit disappointed, but kept quiet. Aside from their leader, she was definitely the one in the group who enjoyed their nightly activities the most. Ann and Ryuji seemed excited. Futaba was eyeing Akira suspiciously.

Akira noticed this and decided to deflect whatever deep-cutting observation she was going to say by bringing up their planned activity for the evening.

“We still up for that movie?” he asked, nervously side-eyeing his sister, but obviously addressing the whole group. “It starts in half an hour, so we should get going if we want to get good seats.”

Haru perked up, it was her turn to choose after all. They were going to see a horror movie of her choice. Everyone chimed in with agreements and started collecting their things in preparation to go out again.

Just when Akira thought he’d gotten away scot-free, Futaba walked up to him as they were walking to the theatre and whispered so only he could hear.

“You’re trying to give Akechi a break, aren’t you?”

He really hated how perceptive she was.


	3. Chapter 3

An entire week.

Seven full days had passed with no word from the Phantom Thieves.

One-hundred and sixty-eight+ hours with no word from his arch nemesis about any heist, no excessively affectionate calling cards or letters, no stupidly vague flower language, no leads or stakeouts on potential suspects, not even a single Phantom Thief sighting by over-eager teenagers with smartphones.

Nothing.

Just _paperwork._

_Boring. Old. Paperwork._

Goro was at his wits end. He was one more day of sorting files away from going completely off the deep end-Just a hair’s width away from aggressively constructing his own custom version of the freaking bat signal to summon the stupid pretentious cosplayer of a-

“Sir?”

Goro snapped out of his mental ramblings to take in the sight of several of his detectives giving him odd looks. It took him a few seconds to realize he’d basically crumpled the report he was writing beyond recognition, the cheap plastic of the generic office ballpoint pen he was holding cracking towards the bottom.

“Are you ok?” one of his younger colleagues asked carefully.

Mind racing on how to fix the situation, he figured the best way to handle it was by pretending nothing was out of the ordinary.

Goro adopted his TV persona in 0.1 seconds and theatrically crumpled the already damaged piece of paper into a spherical shape. He smiled at his colleagues with his most self-deprecating smile.

“I wasn’t happy with how that report turned out.” he laughed, putting his middle school basketball membership to full use by nimbly throwing the paper across the room.

The paper ball hit the wall with a soft thud, bounced back and landed perfectly into one of the trash cans. He heard someone express awe, and would have felt good about his save if it hadn’t been for the colleagues sitting closest to him still seeming unconvinced.

Oh well.

When all else fails.

Run away.

“Oh, look at the time, I have a meeting I need to get to-” he dramatically looked at his watch and retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair. The best part was that he wasn’t even lying. He had a lunch appointment with Makoto in less than fifteen minutes anyway. “I’ll be back in time for the staff meeting after lunch, alright?” he winked in the general direction of all his colleagues-

-to no effect. To his disappointment, they all looked back at him with blank or sceptical expressions. He really was losing his touch.

He assumed it has something to do with not encompassing the roguish charm he’d had as a young private detective apprenticing under Sae. No longer a child prodigy, just a normal, average adult with competency expected from someone his age and profession.

That he was the laughing stock of in his own task force probably didn’t help much either.

The detective closed the door behind him with a gentle click.

Makoto wouldn’t be able to leave her station for a few minutes anyway, so he found himself leaning against the wall outside his shared office.

It wasn’t like him to mull over things while at work, but as Makoto frequently pointed out to him, he had a tendency to get stuck in his own thoughts if left without someone to talk to or something to do. He couldn’t help it. His mind was like a train without breaks. It’d been like that for as long as he could remember.

Before his mother died, he sharpened his senses for picking up on how people felt. During foster care he learned how to look out for danger, and when Sae adopted him at fifteen, she taught him to use those skills constructively. Suddenly the trauma he’d gone through became a valuable tool in his job.

And the neverending train of thought stopped dwelling as much on whether he was even wanted in society. Sae’s blunt and straightforward nature and Makoto’s sharp-as-a-knife intellect and tendency to smother both brother and big sister like a mother hen. Makoto was usually the one to play referee when Sae and Goro started bickering as well. He chuckled at the thought.

He couldn’t ask for a better family.

His home life was all he could wish for at the moment. His professional life, however, was currently suffering.

He didn’t know what or who he blamed more for his current predicament- The Phantom Thieves rising in popularity, both with the public and his own colleagues or how their leader made him look like a fool at any opportunity.

His colleagues would tease him about Joker’s blatantly flirtatious behavior, and, honestly, Goro might have flirted back for the sake of banter once or twice. Though, not while anyone was around to witness their boss fraternize with the enemy.

So while Goro didn’t mind the actual flirtations, the fact that there was always a photographer or a colleague to witness him getting flustered was considerably less charming.

Even less so when those scenes made their way to the front page of gossip magazines.

Because of this, he was the butt of a joke. Not someone competent enough to lead this operation, or so they said.

Maybe they were right.

He sighed inwardly, coming to terms that he desperately needed a pick-me-up. Coffee sounded nice right about now.

His phone chimed.

That was probably Makoto signalling that she was ready to go.

**Makoto:** Waiting at the parking lot.

Sure enough, it was.

**Goro:** k. b there in a sec

Instead of taking the elevator, he opted to jog down the stairs, the sound of leather oxfords hitting linoleum echoing through the stairwell as he made his way down to the exit, and by extension, out to his motorcycle. Honestly a very impractical vehicle for someone who needed to keep his hair and suit pristine throughout the day, but driving it was one of his few joys outside of work.

As expected, Makoto was there with her own bike (affectionately named Johanna, for some reason), calmly browsing her phone as she waited for her brother.

“Ready to go?” Goro grinned, asking the question as he approached her with gusto. The young commissioner finally looked up from her phone with an open expression. It felt good to see her. Goro almost missed living together with her sisters, but seeing as he had the salary to get his own apartment, he didn’t really have an excuse to do so anymore. It was the same for Makoto.

Sae was the only one left in the apartment both brunettes had spent the latter of their teens living in.

She hummed in affirmation before asking, “Which place did you have in mind?”

Akechi tapped his chin in thought, more for theatrics than anything else, he already knew exactly where he wanted to go.

“It’s a surprise.” he teased. The other brunette eyed him with mild irritation. She didn’t like being out of the loop. He knew this, and took great pleasure in annoying her.

“Ok.” she sighed, not giving him the satisfaction of having her argue her way to the answer. “You take the lead, and I’ll follow you.”

She threw him his helmet harder than necessary, hitting his open hands with a painful thud.

Goro was too busy laughing to mind the blooming pain in his palm.

They both mounted their bikes and Goro was the first to exit the parking lot, choosing his direction without hesitation.

He’d been craving the coffee from Leblanc for an entire week now.

And maybe seeing the cute barista too.

\- - - -

 

After twenty minutes of driving, Goro found himself in Yongen once again. A place far removed from the busy city life, trendy hot-spots and paparazzi. He immediately felt himself relax at the sight of the nondescript neighbourhood.

The sound of their bikes tapered off as they came to a halt a few feet away from the café in question. Once Goro took off his helmet, he went about to fix his mussed hair with the help of his rearview mirror. Next to him, Makoto was gingerly taking off her helmet, taking in their surroundings with a tense frown.

Noticing her silence, Goro spoke without looking up from trying to get his hair back to normal, testily brushing locks of hair back and forth until he was satisfied.

“Something wrong?” he absentmindedly asked, annoyed that his bangs wouldn’t stay in place.

Makoto flinched violently, getting off her bike and dusting off her pants with renewed energy, laughing nervously before replying.

“No, nothing at all. I just-” she paused impatiently, looking around the scenery for answers, “-like the, uh, style.” Goro finally looked up from what he was doing, looking at his flustered sister in bewilderment.

“Of the neighbourhood. It’s nice.” she added weakly.

“Ok?” the detective squinted in suspicion.

Makoto sweated uncomfortably under Goro’s gaze before he gave up out of impatience more than anything. Their lunch break had a time limit, and he really wanted to finish his coffee this time.

“We’re going to a place called Leblanc. They have amazing coffee.” Goro swiftly locked his bike with practised efficiency and moved towards the café, waving to his sister to follow along.

Makoto caught up with him in a few strides, “Do you come here often?” she asked cautiously.

Arriving at the entrance, Akechi nonchalantly answered as he opened the door, “Nah. Just once.”

The bell above the door jingled pleasantly.

And Goro once again found himself back in the charming little café he’d gotten abandoned in by his blind date a week prior, the comforting smell of curry and coffee immediately melting away the stress from work. He really should’ve come sooner.

At the end of the counter next to a small box TV, the man he’d met last week was humming along with a Junes commercial, seemingly entirely consumed by the menial task of washing dishes. Dinnerware and cutlery clinking melodiously against each other as strong arms worked them under soap and water.

Despite the jingle of the bell, Akira Kurusu didn’t turn to face him. Or rather them, but he was blocking the door, so Makoto was still technically outside. He felt her impatiently push his back to get moving. He allowed himself another second to take in the other man peacefully working before complying to her demand.

“Sorry.” he whispered, walking further into the establishment so Makoto could enter as well.

“Why are you whispering?” she chided.

From his peripheral vision, he saw abrupt movement from where the barista was standing.

By the time the siblings had turned towards the other man again, the plate was already on a crash course thanks to gravity. Makoto gasped.

The sharp echo of shattering porcelain left them the trio in a stunned silence, none of them saying anything before the last piece of ceramic stopped rolling across Leblanc’s wooden floor.

“Uh-” Goro started dumbly without elaborating, just observing as Akira calmly turned around to look at them for a second before bending down to pick up the porcelain shards now littering his immediate vicinity. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” the barista said monotonously.

The detective’s eyes warily followed as bare fingers moved to pick up the sharp ceramic and before he could regret his decision, Goro was by Akira’s side, gently grabbing his wrist.

“Here, let me do it. I have gloves.” he offered, waving his free hand to prove his point. Akira eyed the physical contact with an unreadable expression before quickly glancing at Makoto, then back at Goro. He offered the detective a strained smile.

“And I have a dustpan.” Akira countered lamely. “Somewhere.”

When Goro didn’t move, the barista nervously pushed up his glasses and untangling his arm from the detective’s grasp.

“Please go take a seat, I’ll be with you in a second.” he mumbled, leaving the two siblings alone in the nether part of the café as he went upstairs in search of his dustpan, stairs protesting weakly under the man’s weight.

The detective watched him sullenly as left. The man he was currently dealing with felt like a far cry from the endearing smile he’d seen on the barista when he complimented his coffee.

Goro’s mind raced as he tried to find a reason for why he was now acting so reserved around him. Did he offend him in some way? Perhaps he didn’t remember him, or-

“Goro.” Makoto urged. The detective nodded, rising to his full height then went to sit down next to the counter, closest to the kitchen section. His sister hesitantly joined him.

“Wouldn’t you rather sit in the booth, though?” she tried to feign nonchalance.

Resting his head in his palm, he gave her an evaluating look before bluntly asking, “What’s with you today?”

Makoto suddenly averted her eyes, opting to inspect her intertwined fingers with unwarranted interest.

“I’d prefer to sit on something soft. This chair is hurting my back.” she once again tried to be nonchalant. He didn’t believe her.

“Makoto.” he leaned closer to his sister, “Did something happen here?” he whispered discreetly, giving her a concerned look. The implication was clear, ‘are you uncomfortable around Akira Kurusu?’.  
Makoto expression flickered with conflicting emotions for a few seconds before she seemingly made up her mind, laughing out loud.

“No, nothing like that.” she waved him off, then leaned in to whisper, “I just feel awkward about startling him like that, that’s all.” giving the broken plate a quick glance.

All the puzzle pieces of Makoto’s behaviour since they’d arrived didn’t fit together, but he decided not to pry. At least it didn’t seem to be about having a negative experience with Akira. At least that was genuine, and that’s all that mattered. If she’d felt genuinely uncomfortable with him around, he’d leave in a heartbeat and never come back, and she knew that.

“Indulge me, please. I want to watch him work.” Goro requested earnestly. The commissioner seemed perplexed by his response.

“Why?” she asked bluntly.

Goro shrugged, giving her a carefree smile. “He’s cute.”

Makoto stared nonplussed at him for several seconds before realization dawned on her, expression shifting to a look of horror, then to a strained look of sympathy.

“Don’t you think you could do better, though?” she whispered as discreetly as she could, becoming acutely aware of the footsteps of the searching barista a floor above them.

“It’s not like I’m going to marry the guy. I barely know him.” he scoffed, “Which is why I want to know more.” He shifted to look at the stairs with a wistful look.

”There’s just something about him that intrigues me.” he mumbled more to himself than anything, still looking towards the wooden steps. Next to him, Makoto was sweating bullets, holding her head in her hands in utter despair.

And just in that moment, the two heard the man they’d been talking about begin to descend the stairs. Without looking at them, he efficiently cleaned up the mess and threw it away.

After putting the dustpan away in a more accessible place for later, he turned to the two of them. Bad posture still in place, hands lazily resting in his pockets and eyes obscured from view thanks to the glare on his glasses.

“What’ll it be?”, he mumbled.

“Same coffee as last time, the blue mountain one, and a mild plate of curry with extra rice.” Goro said with artificially enhanced charm. Akira nodded, then turned expectantly to Makoto.

“I’ll have the same as him.” she said politely.

“Ok.” he replied curtly, pushing up his glasses and turned towards the kitchen to prepare their order.

What followed next was Akira making their coffee. Goro paying special attention when the barista poured the water over the ground up beans. He learned that his hands were unusually rough for someone in his line of work, calluses generously decorating his hands as if he did heavy work on a regular basis.

An intriguing contrast to Akira’s muted behaviour, Goro noted.

Soon enough, Makoto and Goro both had a steaming plate of curry with a complimenting cup of coffee each. Akira’s job was done. And before Goro ask him anything, the barista excused himself, walking upstairs while mumbling something about having to do paperwork. Seeing as they’d already paid for their meal, there was no reason for the man to return. They could see themselves out.

Sensing her brother’s disappointment, she patted his back. “There, there.”

Goro shrugged, turning to his sister with genuine interest.

“So, how’s work?” he asked as started digging into his meal. The commissioner shook her head with an amused smile, then started talking about her colleagues and new assignments she was working on.

They engaged in familiar smalltalk for the rest of their duration at the café, updating eachother on their lives and discussed books they were currently reading. Makoto going in detail about how much she like the heroine in a supernatural crime story she just started on, and Goro enthusiastically nodded along, appreciating Makoto’s passion for the character.

But soon their lunch break was over. Plates practically licked clean and not a drop left in their cups, they both agreed the coffee and curry combo was divine.

As they moved to leave, Goro paused by the door before calling out in hope that the barista would hear him upstairs. Makoto waiting outside for him to follow.

“Thanks for the meal, Kurusu-san! It was delicious!”

As the detective resigned himself to not receiving an answer, a muffled reply came from upstairs.

“Glad you liked it.” Goro smiled, closing the door with a pleasant jingle of the bell behind him.

Good food, even better coffee and a charming and intriguing owner who left him wanting to know more. It was offical. He was definitely making this his go-to café. 

But for now, back to more boring paperwork while he waited for the Phantom Thieves to make their next move.

Oh joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't expect such a positive response to this fic. I'm eternally grateful for everyone who commented, left kudos and bookmarked my silly little attempt to teach myself how to write. Your encouragement literally left me in tears, and my determination to keep writing has solidified thanks to your support.
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much!
> 
> \- Pin


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two-chapter update! Because I realized I needed to write a short in-between.

**Makoto:** We need to talk. I’ll come by after work.

**Akira:** A’ight. Bring something I can drink myself to death with.

**Makoto:** Akira…

**Akira:** jk jk, but a drink would be nice.

**Makoto:** Will a bottle of white suffice?

**Akira:** Eugh

**Akira:** I thought u knew me

**Akira:** Red

**Akira:** Red like a sunset

**Makoto:** Are you trying to tell me you want a bottle of Rosé, because that’s more similar in color to a sunset than red wine ;)

**Akira:** y

**Akira:** Bring me red wine u sasslord

**Makoto:** k

 

Like clockwork, forty minutes after Makoto got off work, she was standing there in Akira’s doorway with a Pinot Noir in hand. Shoving the bottle of red into Akira’s awaiting hands, she impatiently marched into the apartment. Morgana waking up from his slumber at the sound of the door, went to greet her with a needy meow. For now, Makoto ignored the cat in favor of looking desperately at her friend.

“Goro is determined to come back to Leblanc, and I don’t know how to stop him without looking suspicious.” or without making him hate you, she wanted to add, but that was something she wasn’t pursuing out of principle. It just wasn’t an option.

Closing the door with a gentle click, Akira calmly walked back into his humble abode in search of a wine glass or two, depending on whether Makoto wanted some.

“Wine?” he offered, hand hovering over the cheap wine glasses in his cupboards.

“Yes, please.” With a defeated sigh, Makoto sank into the soft cushions of the couch, finally giving Morgana the attention he craved, a deep purr resounding through the apartment as the owner snatched up two glasses and found himself pleased with the fact that the wine had a screw-top instead of a normal cork. Anything that made getting a drink more accessible right now was a plus in his book. Not his healthiest moment with alcohol, but he allowed himself to think this way on a rare occasion.

“I’m sorry.” Akira mumbled, unscrewing the wine then pouring the rich red liquid for them both. Finally taking a seat next his friend with a tired groan.

“I knew being a culinary genius would bite me in the ass someday.” Akira quipped, bringing his glass to his lips, taking a deep sip. Next to him Makoto scoffed into her drink.

“It’s not just that.” she replied solemnly, putting her glass back on the table.

“He’s taken a personal interest in you.” Akira froze, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut by some invisible force. Was he on to him?

His costume covered everything but his eyes, his face below his nose and Futaba had helpfully provided them with voice distorters for further safety. He even hid the color of his eyes by wearing red contacts. He shouldn’t be that easy to recognize, even if someone who regularly dealt with Joker, like Akechi, saw him in civilian garb.

Having some experience with that feeling, Makoto tried to comfort him by rubbing circles into his back and he felt himself relax thanks to her friendly gesture. 

He could feel Makoto’s hand tremble against his back, “If he finds out about you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to protect you without dragging my family down with me.”, her grip around the cloth of shirt tightened, “I know we all agreed to go down alone if one of us gets arrested, but that’s-” her lip trembled. “Please stay safe.”

Akira violently grimaced, feeling an immediate aversion to the serious turn the mood had taken, Akira impulsively scooped the confused brunette into a hug, then when Morgana started meowing again, scooped him up too.

The brunette being too stunned to speak and the barista being unsure how to verbally lighten the mood, Makoto and Akira were stuck listening to Morgana screech in protest at being squeezed between the two thieves’ in their awkward one sided bear hug.

“You’re such an idiot.” Makoto lightly punched him in the gut before sinking into the hug, trying to placate the disgruntled cat by petting him. It kind of worked. Morgana’s screeching was now only dotted in between each pet like a malfunctioning toy.

“Probably. But I’d probably look good in a prison uniform. They’re striped, right? Like Akechi’s tie.” At this, Makoto chuckled uncontrollably.

“I remember when he bought that tie.” she giggled, “Sae complimented it and he was so pleased with himself that he ended up buying ten more just like it.” Akira barked out a laugh, and both thieves spent the next few minutes exchanging amusing memories about Akechi or their friends, giggling to themselves all the while.

Makoto was the one to break the hug, Morgana, finally free, escaped the couch entirely and went to munch on whatever leftovers Akira had accidently left out in the open in the kitchen.

Makoto’s smile was still firmly plastered in place, but a hint of seriousness returned to her tone.

“I’m serious about what I said, though. Please stay safe. Alright?” Akira would’ve dismissively waved her off if he wasn’t keenly aware of her persistent nature. He settled for a quiet nod, picking up his wine once again to finish it off.

“Good.” she smiled, picking up her own drink.

After this, they agreed for Akira to not speak to Akechi unless strictly necessary, which Akira quickly pointed out to have been his strategy from the start, to which Makoto pointed out how Akira had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

They finished the bottle of wine, and Makoto left him with a quick hug at the door before leaving.

Akira fell asleep on the couch to one of Akechi’s newest interviews, Morgana purring contently in a curled up position on the thief’s stomach.

The voice of the pleasant detective echoed through Akira’s living room.

_“-elieve what they’re doing is right, however, operating outside the law is a dangerou-”_


	5. Chapter 5

Akira’s job at Leblanc, previously his only source of normalcy, had now become his own personal hell thanks to the stupidly attractive brunette currently sipping on a cup of coffee and reading a book by his counter. Adorably mumbling to himself when he noticed something of interest, and even whipped out a small yellow notebook now and then to scribble down some notes before putting it away and continuing with his read.

Because he’d been dying of curiousity, Akira asked him why he took notes while reading. At his, Akechi had fixed him with a secretive smile, and told him he liked to figure out the perp in his crime novels before the official reveal.

Feigning boredom, Akira just hummed an uninterested “I see.” before going back chopping carrots for the new batch of curry. After that Akechi tried to continue the conversation, which Akira swiftly stonewalled. The flicker of hurt crossing his face hurting Akira equally.

Of course Goro Akechi would do such a thing. Of course, the man he’d been pining for for almost a year now, was this dorky and extra outside of work as well.

Of course, Goro Akechi, would be looking for suspects even after his shift ended.

It’s that sharpness and commitment to his work that attracted Akira to the detective in the first place.

Akira swallowed thickly as he felt crimson eyes still assessing him even after he’d excused himself from the conversation. Hiding the adrenaline induced tremble in his hands by nimbly chopping carrots and never letting his hands be without work, otherwise Akechi would notice.

He wished Makoto was here to reel him in. Because frankly, without her as a walking reminder that this was a bad idea, Akira’s impulse control was not doing him any favors. The fact that he was in the kitchen rather than making an excuse that he had to go upstairs to pay his taxes or water his cat, was a result of that.

He wanted to be close to the other man, even if he couldn’t have a conversation longer than a quick question here and there. Even if he knew his rival was actively assessing him.

He wished Makoto would be there to elbow her brother in the side when Akechi stared too intently and for too long at the barista’s movements, but unfortunately, since last week’s surprise visit, Makoto hadn’t returned with her brother. Or at all.

Since then, Akechi had come in every day. Sometimes during lunch, which were shorter, but some days like today he came in during the evening with a book or a thick manila folder of paperwork and worked quietly by the counter until closing time. Those days were the worst.

Or they should be, but it was also the days Akira enjoyed the most.

Feelings the rushing adrenaline of still having Akechi’s eyes on him, he side eyed the other man for a quick second before once again focusing at the task at hand, diligently preparing curry for his customers.

As his fellow thieves had shook their heads in bemusement and pointed out to him on several occasions, Akira Kurusu was a born thrill seeker. And currently, there was no thrill more intoxicating than trying to act like a normal, boring citizen in front of the man whos literal job it was to hunt him to the very end of the earth if necessary and arrest him for disrupting Japan’s elite society.

Suppressing his trademark smirk, He finished the last of the carrots with a few precise chops, swiftly scraped them off the cutting board into the pot, then nimbly started on the potatoes without pause.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Akechi had all but abandoned his book in favor of resting his head on intertwined fingers, intently watching the thief as he worked.

As usual, the detective was wearing his signature leather gloves. And not for the first time, Akira wondered how they would feel gently brushing against his lips.

“You’re skilled with a knife.” the brunette mused, a polite smile greeting Akira as he glanced at the other man.

“I guess.” Akira shrugged. Truth be told, when he first moved to Tokyo, he could barely cook more than a fried egg. And even then, whether it got burnt beyond edibility or not was a 50/50 chance.

His first day in the Sakura residence, Sojiro brought him into the kitchen, handed him a large kitchen knife and told him to start chopping vegetables, he was going teach him how to make the trademark Leblanc curry. Confused, fifteen year old Akira gingerly took the knife, eyeing the pile of vegetables with a small frown.

At first, Futaba would dramatically pretend to pass out after a bite of his cooking, then with a horrified expression, classified his curry as ‘Mystery Food X’. He happily returned the sentiment when it was her turn to make dinner, and a brief cooking rivalry started between the two.

Futaba’s revenge campaign for insulting her cooking eventually lost steam, she concluded that she didn’t actually care that much after all. But Akira’s interest in cooking remained to this day.

Akechi nodded politely before asking another question, “Kurusu-san, if you don’t mind me asking- how long have you worked here?”, the brunette confidently tucked a lock of hair behind his ear as he spoke, focusing on Akira with an affable charm he guessed was a natural result of Akechi’s countless appearances in TV interviews over the years.

Another shrug, “A few years.” he answered dismissively.

“Oh? That explains why you’re so good at your job.” Akechi shifted to thoughtfully circle his fingertips along the rim of the small porcelain cup, “I used to think I made decent coffee, but after meeting you, every cup I make at home tastes really bland.”

The brunette seemed to become lost in his own thoughts as he continued.

“Your coffee really is the most delicious I’ve ever had.” he concluded softly.

Following the circular motion of Akechi’s fingers, Akira found it harder to breathe, tingling heat blooming on his face and an inescapable smile tugging at his lips.

Before Akira could even consciously realize the embarrassingly revealing state of his face, Akechi looked up at him, face going from wistful, to surprised then morphed into a genuinely warm smile.

Akechi’s relieved laugh brought Akira back to reality.

“I’m glad.” Akechi went back to circling the rim of his cup, this time with more care, shyly bowing head head in an attempt hide his smile behind soft brown locks, “Aside from my first visit, you’ve always treated me so coldly. I thought I’d done something to offend you.”

“And even if I did- I’m happy I could make you smile again, at least.” he laughed again, dismissively waving his hand in an attempt to alleviate his own embarrassment. 

Akira replied with an indecipherable mumble, head turning away from the brunette. The thief suddenly started busying himself with trivial things on the other side of the kitchen, as far away from Akechi as possible. Akira was going to die. And it was all because of Akechi catching him off guard with suddenly going all serious on him like that. He could deal with TV Akechi, no problem, but not the man beneath that mask.

Damn him.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite hear what you said.” the detective urged.

“You haven’t offended me.” Akira mumbled slightly louder, knowing full well that he was throwing a can of gasoline on the dumpster fire that was their plan to keep Akechi from coming back to Leblanc. He’d been acting cold for a reason. And now that was all in vain.

“Oh.” Akechi beamed with unfiltered delight, posture straightening like he was proud of himself.

Yep. It’s official. Akira was going to die because of this man.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Akechi fidgeted self-consciously with the end of his shirt sleeve, taking the opportunity to check his wrist watch while he was at it. Akira was glad he wasn’t the only one looking for an escape from this awkwardness.

The detective took one final sip from his cup, savouring the last few drops of his self proclaimed favorite coffee before setting it down again with a gentle clink.

“I see you’re closing soon, so I should take my leave.” the detective grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, shrugging it on before addressing Akira once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurusu.” the drop of -san not going unnoticed, Akira nodded curtly, pausing a moment before replying.

“See you then, Akechi.” he mirrored the sentiment despite knowing he was basically inviting a bull into a glass house. Makoto was not going to be pleased if she found out.

As his rival finally left Leblanc with a small, friendly wave, Akira slowly and purposely descended to the the floor, lying on his side while all energy just seemed to leave his body, leaving him unable to do anything but lie there in utter self-loathing.

“Idiot." he whimpered to no one but himself.


	6. Chapter 6

After two weeks of paperwork and boring menial tasks like taking eye witness accounts from teenagers who side eyed him for wanting to catch their idols and tracking the Phansite for clues, Goro Akechi was almost on the verge of crying in relief at the sight of a calling card and pair of flowers lying on his desk.

Finally, some actual work.

As usual, Akechi was the first in the office. Being an early riser by nature, this had been the standard since he could remember. Revising material before the school day started was a nice way to keep up with his studies when you had detective work after school, after all.

Putting down his briefcase by his desk, he sat down on his office chair in preparation of reading the note. Who would their next target be?

As was customary, he looked up the flowers he’d received before reading the card.

Hm. An iris and-

Uh-

Looking through several pictures to compare to, he found out the second one was a yellow camellia.

Iris signifying ‘Good News’, among other things, but this one made the most sense, the second flower, the yellow camella signified ‘Longing’.

Confused as to the choices of flowers this time, he left them be in favor of opening the message.

Feeling childishly giddy, Akechi made quick work of the black envelope with nimble gloved fingers, taking the plastic card out of it, then put the card container in evidence bag like every other time he’d received a letter, they never found any fingerprints, so they no longer immediately sent them to evidence, but maybe one day.

Finally, flipping the card around to face him, he read-

 

**GoRO AKeCHI**

**OuR sTeaDfaSt huNteR whOm pErsiStEntLy tollS fOr oUr deMisE**

**We hAve yEt nO neWs as oF Our nExt StoLeN heArt sHaLl bE**

**So uNtiL tHen, wE biD yOu aDiEu**

**ThE PHaNtoM THieVeS of HeArt**

 

Under that again, a hand written message in permanent marker.

 

**Enjoy your vacation, detective! ❤  
Forever yours, Joker**

Frozen in place, Akechi flipped the card over a few times to make sure hadn’t missed anything.

Because-

This was a joke, right?

Realization dawned. This meant-

\- - - -

An hour later, the other detectives started filtering into the office. Confused when they didn’t see their boss, they checked his desk for clues. What they found was a propped up A4 sheet of paper with thick letters written in permanent marker, it simply read.

**HOME OFFICE. Call me if there’s anything.  
\- Akechi**

\- - - -

 

If he was going to continue the hell that was file sorting, evidence reports, proof reading- or in other words, more paperwork, he was damn well going to do it somewhere he could get a good cup of coffee. Stupid Phantom Thieves. Stupid Joker.

Eyes screaming murder and the handle of his suitcase gripped harder than strictly necessary, Akechi opened the door to one of the few places he could find a source of comfort nowadays. Leblanc.

Every other time he came to the café, he’d relaxed at sound of the bell pleasantly jingling above him as he entered the establishment, however, today was not one of those days. His nerves were too frizzled with annoyance. It was probably a bad idea to be around anyone at the moment, but for the past two weeks Leblanc had been his source of sanity and he desperately needed some sanity right now.

With practised ease, Akechi switched to his celebrity persona. It wouldn’t do to scare away Akira with throwing a hissy fit over something most people would consider a good thing. No news is good news as some would say. Though honestly, Akechi couldn’t care less about the state of the world as long as he had a steady stream of interesting cases to work with.

“Good mo-” he smiled pleasantly- and stopped in his tracks as the barista wasn’t where he’d expected him to be.

To his surprise, Akira was sitting on the business side of the counter, limply resting his head on his palm, with his other hand resting against a half-full cup of coffee. Steady, deep breaths giving away that Akechi’s suspicion was indeed correct, Akira Kurusu had nodded off. From the looks of it, while having his morning coffee.

Feeling some of the murderous intent leaving his system at the sight, he stifled a chuckle. Akechi moved to quietly lay his things on one of the booth tables before approaching the other man. Taking a seat next to the raven head to be on equal ground, he gently shook the barista’s shoulder.

“Kurusu.” he verbally nudged.

Akira’s eyes flickered open for a brief moment before immediately falling shut again, then opened again to groggily peer at the detective.

Without his glasses, Akechi finally got a good look at Akira’s eyes. A cool grey colour, framed by long eyelashes. The barista was quietly observing him in return, a small frown in place as he did.

Akechi leaned closer, chuckling lightly to himself at the thought that crossed his mind. Akira kind of looked like a disgruntled cat like this. Cute.

“Good morning, detective.” Akira murmured sleepily, head still leaning heavily on his palm.

_‘Good evening, detective’ Joker flamboyantly leaned onto the railing and rested his head on his palm while regarding him with a playful grin. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?’_

The barista watched in confusion as Akechi’s mask abruptly cracked at the seams. The detective’s television ready smile turning forced, lips pressing together in a tense mockery of what it had it had previously been.

“Good morning, Kurusu.” Akechi said too evenly, mask carefully mending itself together in front of Akira’s very eyes.

A rush of schadenfreude shot through Akira’s system as the look reminded him of how Akechi looked at him when he was Joker. That was probably a bad thing, a small voice in the back of head whispered. Akira should care. Should be alarmed by being looked at like this while in his civilian persona, instead, he felt elated. He’d missed this.

And he wanted to tease Akechi so bad.

In the absence of any thief work, he hadn’t been able to banter with Akechi as Joker, and that’s something he desperately missed. Having even a small taste of normalcy between them felt like a river in a desert. 

“By, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’, I thought you meant later in the day.” Akira grinned. “So- what’ll it be, detective?”

When the detective uncharacteristically gave no immediate answer, instead seeming lost in thought, Akira picked up his half-drunk cup of coffee and circled around the counter in order to prepare Akechi’s order. The question was more out of courtesy than actual curiosity. After one week of the same order every day, he had a pretty good idea of what Akechi wanted by this point.

When the silence pressed on and became uncomfortable, Akira looked glanced at the other man.

“Everything alright?” the barista paused his work to equip his glasses before continuing. Even though the lizard part of brain screamed for him to let his Joker personality loose, he had a café to run and two Sakuras who would murder him if he went to jail or something as stupid as missing his rivalry with the SIU golden boy.

“Hm?” Akechi perked, “Sorry, you just reminded me of someone, that’s all.” the detective observed with a smile too forced even for television, resting his chin on intertwined fingers as he intensely observed the other man.

“Oh?” the barista countered nonchalantly, not looking up from the coffee grounds he was measuring. 

“A total pain in my ass.” Akechi smiled irritably, “but also the reason my job is so much fun.”

“A colleague of yours?” Akira deflected, slowly pouring the hot water over the Blue Mountain beans. If he was talking about Joker, that was the closest he’d get to a ‘I like you’ from the detective. The tips of ears rebelliously burned as he tried to quell any delight he felt at the so-called compliment.

“Something like that.” he replied dismissively.

Before Akira could pry further, his phone buzzed in his pocket, making both men pause as the buzzing repeated a few times. Akira had an inkling as to who it could be. The café was being surveilled by a certain gremlin after all.

Akira ignored his phone in favour of finishing Akechi’s order.

“You’re not going to get that?” the detective noted with some curiosity.

“It’s just my sister being annoying.”, he replied as he put the steaming cup of coffee in front of the other man, another buzz from Akira’s pocket sounded swiftly after that comment, causing Akechi to raise an eyebrow at the timing.

A pause, and more buzzes.

“She gets really excited when she watches Phoenix Ranger Featherman.” Akira grimaced, “and spams me with random trivia.”, it wasn’t even a lie. This might not be one of those situations, but she did do that too frequently for Akira’s tastes.

“Oh?” Akechi’s face lit up with genuine amusement and Akira sighed a sigh of relief at the alleviated mood.

“My sister does something similar. She’s a huge fan of Yakuza movies.”, the detective attempted to muffle his laughter against the back of his hand. Akira’s entire body suddenly tingled with gratification. He had to admit, teasing Akechi was fun, but seeing him like this was also… nice.

“Anyway. I should get back to work. Thank you again for the coffee, Kurusu-san.” Akechi moved to join his things by one of the booths.

“Oh, so I’m Kurusu-san again?” Akira teased, Akechi’s gaze shifted back to the barista as he sat down with his coffee.

“Ah. I forgot.” A playful smirk tugged at the detective’s lips, “Though, why not just make it ‘Akira-san’ instead?” the brunette winked. An empty suggestion meant to fluster the other.

“Just Akira is fine.” the barista shrugged, taking the other man by surprise.

Once again, his phone started buzzing uncontrollably.

“I should probably get that.” he mumbled, fishing his phone out of his back pocket.

Akechi nodded, giving Akira one last smile before getting his laptop ready for work, a manila folder lying next to it, hidden away from the view of casual observers. The tips of his ears burning red.

Scrolling through the messages from Futaba, he had received exactly what he’d expected. Without putting too much thought into the ‘He’s on to you!’ messages at the beginning, he scrolled down to the most recent ones.

 **Gremlin:** wHAT ARE YOU DOING  
**Gremlin:** dON’T TELL HIM TO CALL YOU AKIRa WHTA  
**Gremlin:** I love you but what are you doing  
**Gremlin:** r you trying to get arrested?  
**Gremlin:** ffs, do you have some kind of handcuff kink, is this what this is about?  
**Gremlin:** cuz if Akechi cuffs you, it won’t be in the sexy way i can tell u that  
**Gremlin:** u kno that righ?  
**Gremlin:** Right?

 **Akira:** I don’t know what I’m doing ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

 **Gremlin:** I can tell  
**Gremlin:** also  
**Gremlin:** that kaomoji  
**Gremlin:** is u  
**Gremlin:** going straight to jail  
**Gremlin:** cuz ur lizard brain says yes, but u shud be saying no  
**Gremlin:** u idiot  
**Gremlin:** r u really going to make Morgana an orphan???

 **Akira:** Morgana is coming with me to jail  
**Akira:** Do you know how much fish that cat has stolen from me? Bona fide criminal.

 **Gremlin:** it’s ur fault for leaving th kitchen while cooking

 **Akira:** whatevs

 **Gremlin:** btw  
**Gremlin:** im sending Sojiro  
**Gremlin:** u need an adult

 **Akira:** I am an adult.

 **Gremlin:** thats debatable  
**Gremlin:** he’ll be there in ten.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, Akira pocketed his phone. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t help but feel resentful about being treated like a delinquent in need of supervision. It felt a bit too close to home after the events that brought him to Tokyo in the first place.

Snapping out of his irritation was the sight of Akechi observing him with mild concern.

“Did she offend your favorite featherman?” he gently teased before taking another sip of his coffee.

Feeling heat rise to his face, “I don’t watch that kids show.”, Akira spluttered, suddenly feeling defensive about his fragile status as an adult.

Another buzz. Akira didn’t check, but he could guess what it said.

 **Gremlin:** lies! also how dare u. Phoenix Ranger Featherman is a timeless classic transcending something as petty as a target audience

“Too bad. It’s a fun show. I’m partial to Black Condor, myself.” Akechi said earnestly, “You strike me as a Red Hawk type of guy. Or maybe both. Black and red are a nice combination of colors, don’t you think, Akira-san?”, he continued cryptically, head resting on intertwined fingers as he sported an overly pleasant smile.

Akira swallowed thickly.

Saved by the bell. Literally. The Leblanc door bell jingled and stepping into the café was Sojiro Sakura. As usual, the sceptical scowl was in place.

“Akira.” he called gruffly, “Futaba said she needed you to help her with something today, so I’m taking over.”, with something as vague ‘help with something’ Futaba must’ve been in a hurry to send Sojiro out the door.

He pushed up his glasses before nodding in compliance. Akechi seemed discontent by the turn of events, a small frown in place as he looked at Akira with poorly masked disappointment. The barista offered him a small smile.

“Stop dawdling around and get going, Futaba was really in a hurry for you to come home. Don’t make her wait.”, Sojiro lightly patted Akira’s curls in a mock slap across the head.

“Nag, nag, nag.” Akira countered playfully, waving to the detective as he passed his booth towards the door. “See you later, Akechi.”, he moved on out the door without waiting for an answer.

As soon as he was outside the door, getting ready to walk to the Sakura household to talk to Futaba, he felt warm leather circling around his hand. The detective’s gentle grip holding him back from leaving.

“Wait.” Akechi called softly.

Feeling the beat of his heart picking up the pace, Akira turned to face the other man with a curious frown. Akechi’s hand feeling warm in his, the suspicions about his gloves being soft to the touch confirmed.

Both men held even eye contact despite the urge to nervously look away. Akira was uncomfortably aware of Sojiro observing them through the glass door, but at least they were out of reach of Futaba’s listening devices.

“Would you like to get some tea with me sometime?”, the brunette made a point to lightly squeeze Akira’s hand as he asked. It felt like he was squeezing Akira’s heart too, because his chest suddenly felt tight, making his breath shorter than he would’ve liked.

Because the lizard part of his brain commanded so, Akira nodded in agreement.

Akechi beamed, fishing the notebook he’d used the day before to write down theories about suspects in his mystery novel and scribbled something down. Ripping the sheet off when he was done.

“My number.” he clarified. Akira gingerly took it. Noting that Akechi moved to take his hand back in his with some embarrassment. It felt scorchingly hot around his own fingers.

“Well then, I need to get back to work.”, his tone lowered to something more intimate as he continued, “I look forward to see you again, Akira-san.” he murmured, giving Akira’s hand one last squeeze before he turned to go back inside Leblanc.

Feeling petty, Akira wanted the last word before the detective left.

“See you later, _Goro-chan._ ” he drawled, Akechi’s face a mix of confusion and irritation as he turned to frown at the barista. Akira offered him a playful wink before turning to leave the detective standing in front of Leblanc alone.

Ruffling his feathers was too much fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone for reading, commenting, leaving kudos and bookmarking! I'm going to finish this fic either way, but it really motivates me to work on it when I get feedback like that! :') ❤
> 
> Edit: Managed to post this chapter three times somehow. *sweats* Sorry about that, I'm still pretty new to all this.


	7. Chapter 7

Entering the Sakura household, Akira expected the younger Sakura to come greet him at the door. Yell at him for being an idiot. Calling him reckless and stupid for allowing himself to be charmed by Akechi so easily. So in short, reacting like when she first heard of him approaching Akechi at Leblanc that fateful evening three weeks ago.

“Futaba.” the brother called-

-the echo of his call dying in the empty halls of the place he spent the latter half of his teens.

Toeing off his shoes at the genkan, he broke their unsaid rule of opening her door without knocking. The light from the hallway flooded into the small air conditioned tomb Futaba called her room, only the only source of light being the multiple screens in her room.They gave off the familiar green hued fluorescence Akira had come to associate with this his sister’s den.

Casually sitting on the bed was the woman in question. Flickering light illuminating her upper half as she was watching something on her screen. Even now in her twenties, she was still the loveable little dork he’d met all those years ago.

“Are you ignoring me?” he pouted, feeling genuine hurt at the thought.

Her eyes shifted from the screen towards him. He searched for answers in her expression, finding nothing.

She patted the empty space next to her.

“Watch Phoenix Ranger Featherman with me. It’s the episode where they fight the Fyurah and his robo minions.”

Akira happily complied.

He dropped down next to her like a sack of potatoes, causing the smaller thief to jump as the mattress adjusted the sudden weight.

“Eugh. Why are you like this.” she grunted as she readjusted her glasses. He playfully stuck his tongue out at her, scooting closer to get a better view of the screen.

After that, they silently watched the episode. Both quipping about the episode they’d seen countless times before, quoting the overdramatic scenes together and pointed out trivia about the costumes or actors.

A ritual that felt familiar and safe.

“I’m filing for the custody of Morgana when you go to jail, by the way.” she poked his side, sending a visible jolt of discomfort through the Phantom Thief leader, then moving to take a handful of snacks from the chip bag she’d materialized halfway through the episode.

“Ugh. So official. You already know he’ll be yours to look after if I go.”, he popped a single flake of chips in his mouth, chewing thoroughly and swallowing before continuing., “Prepare to wake up to him screeching in your ear every morning and aggressively trying to sleep on you at eight in the evening.”

“Uhhhh. On second thought, Akechi can keep him as a trophy.”, she crammed another handful of chips in her mouth with a resounding crunch, continuing to speak with her mouth full of half chewed snacks, “Why are you so ok with the idea of going to jail, by the way. It’s like you don’t even care how much it will hurt us.”

Akira winced, shifting uncomfortably next to her.

“It’s not like I want spend the rest of my life in solitary confinement or anything, it’s just-” he impatiently moved his wrist in a circular motion, trying to find the right words to articulate himself. “-I’m making a gamble, that’s all.”

“On whether he’ll arrest you or not when he figures out your true identity?” she scoffed, “That’s dumb even for you.”

“I’ll leave it up to the whims of fate.”

“Roll the dice and see where they may fall, huh?” she snorted, giving him an incredulous look.

“There’s a certain romance in betting it all for love, right?” he grinned, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, then leaning his head onto the combo.

“Pfft. You’re in it for the thrill of the chase, dude. Just wait until you start fighting over housework and other mundane shit.”, she muttered before startling as she saw the way Akira’s gaze softened at her words.

He’d thought about things like that as well, actually.

Surprising himself, his daydreams of Akechi had quickly shifted since he’d met him in his civilian life.

From stolen moments under a heist, both playing the respective roles of thief and detective. A heavily romanticized view on a potential attraction between the two, not for who they were as people, but for the roles they played in opposition of eachother. The forbidden romance, a harlequin novelesque rendezvous between rivals.

From that to waking up to the detective getting ready for work, putting on one of his too many striped ties. He’d kiss Akira goodbye like it was routine and forget to wash the dishes from his breakfast. Akira would tease about it when the detective came home in time for a heated konbini bento, a mutually agreed upon dinner because they were both too tired to make anything from scratch.

Small domestic moments Akira had found himself craving with escalating desire after continously seeing his rival so at ease in Leblanc. Nose deep in a book or paperwork, just silently enjoying the atmosphere of the anonymous little café. Akira wanted to sit with him. Make small talk and sit so close their thighs touched, talking about the most recent paperback mystery novel Akechi had picked up at his siblings’ recommendation.

If someone had asked him whether he wanted this kind of life just a month ago, he’d laugh in their face.

Absolutely not.

But here he was, having such dreams after all.

“Gross.”, Futaba’s nose scrunched up in disgust at the lovesick look in her brother’s eyes, “You got old.”

He shrugged, hoping the warmth he felt didn’t reflect in the form of a blush. “I guess.”

“Seriously, it’s like you aged twenty years in the span of an hour, and I’m concerned.”

His blush was definitely showing now.

“Shut up.” he muttered, making an attempt to cover the worst of the warmth with his hands.

“Besides, I thought you called me a kid just an hour ago. Make up your mind!” he countered.

“I said it was debatable whether you were an adult or not and I stand by that, you might have the life goals of a middle aged geezers, but you have the impulse control of a five year old.” she sneered.

“I don’t want to hear this from a NEET who still lives at home.”

“I’m not a NEET! I’m employed!”

“By the Phantom Thieves.”

“Yeah. And?”

“Pfft.” he nudged her shoulder, “But yeah, we’re lucky to have you.”

“Damn straight.” she nudged back, beaming at her brother.

He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Wanna watch another episode?” Akira nodded towards the screen, fishing another chip from the aluminum package.

“Hell yeah!” 

With the swift click of the space bar, another episode came into motion.

\- - - -

 

A soft knock against her office door made Makoto look up from her report. Nimble fingers stopped typing as soon as she spoke.

“Come in.” she called.

The handle of the door gently turned and the door pushed in, revealing Akechi as he walked into her office. Taking care to quietly close the door behind him. With a short, friendly wave, he confidently walked up to Makoto’s desk.

“Ah, Goro. What’s on your mind?” the commissioner closed the lid of her laptop halfway, signifying that he had her attention.

“Oh, nothing in particular. I just wondered if you would like to join me to Leblanc for dinner.” he smiled politely.

“Leblanc?” she feigned ignorance, a feeling of anxiety tingling in her chest.

“The place with, in your words, divine curry.” he reminded her, flamboyantly flicking his wrist as he spoke, demeanor too plastic for her taste. Her brother’s empty smiles were usually reserved for people he was unsure of, not family. And she didn’t know why he would suddenly act that way around her.

She had to tread carefully.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “How about going to Crossroads for sushi instead? Lala-san says she misses you.”

“Something wrong with Leblanc?” he touched his chin, tone too artificially polite.

“No, nothing like that.” she shook her head, nervously intertwining her fingers.

Akechi shifted his weight onto his right foot, a subtle sigh escaping his lips.

“Makoto.”

“To be blunt. Something seemed to bother you when we were there, but I couldn’t figure out why.” his gaze lost some of the plasticity, leaving behind a tired expression.

“Won’t you tell me what made you uncomfortable?” he said hesitantly, crimson eyes searching for something in her expression.

She didn’t allow herself to give him a telling pause, just employed the same hollow sincerity he’d used on her just a minute ago. Her heart breaking as she had to lie to her brother this way.

“Nothing was wrong. I just feel like something lighter than curry for dinner, that’s all.” she smiled for the invisible camera, hoping her act would convince the crowd.

No such luck.

Akechi’s mask broke, leaving behind a hurt expression. But as Makoto had witnessed too many times over the years, her brother was surprisingly good at burying his feelings as soon as they surfaced, the mask back in place within less than a second.

“I see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crams some song lyrics in there for the sole reason that the word 'gamble' reminded me of The Whims of Fate song." Ye, that totally sounds like natural dialogue,


End file.
